Unknown Force
by StarryEyesAndSkies
Summary: Light couldn't be Kira. How could somebody commit all of those murders and not remember? It was impossible, right? Chained to L and unable to sleep, Light reflects on his life up to that point.


**A/N **

**Despite Light being the main character, we don't know much about his life before the Death Note. We know that he was bored and possibly depressed, but not much else. This is my interpretation of what his life may have been like before he found the Death Note.**

One-Shot

There are nights where the city lights shine brighter than stars, the shouts in the streets can cover up the loudest thunder, and the citizens of Tokyo prove to be as active under the moon as they are under the sun. If one were to be blindfolded during one of these nights and brought outside, forced to guess whether it was night or day depending on the sounds around them, the subject in question would be unable to figure it out. The blue sky bled into black without any changes, and the disappearing sun could not convince any city-dweller to sleep alongside it.

This was not one of those nights.

This was a night where the dark sky covered Tokyo like a thick blanket, silencing the few who were awake to speak. The lack of sound caused the city to resemble a quiet village on the English countryside rather than a sprawling metropolis with millions of inhabitants. It was a night where everybody easily found sleep.

Everybody, that is, except for Light Yagami.

He stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide open (although the darkness was so intense that it was possible his eyes were shut the entire time). It was difficult to blame him for staying awake. The chain that connected him to the detective that lay sleeping on the other side of the bed guaranteed that he wouldn't sleep comfortably for the foreseeable future. If he moved his arm, he'd wake up L, or he'd be yanked back to his sleeping body. Really, it was easier to stay awake and ensure a complete lack of movement.

It wasn't so much the chain that bothered him than the detective himself. He could handle sleeping next to a complete stranger, but the situation becomes much more complex when the stranger suspects you of being a mass murderer. Well, there was only a 5 percent chance, but still. If L was willing to chain the two together, who knows what else that weirdo would do? Perhaps he was only pretending to be asleep, and the moment that Light shut his eyes, he would watch him all night looking for signs that he could be Kira. Which he wasn't, by the way. Or maybe L was convinced, and he would kill Light in his sleep, claiming self-defense. There was no telling what he was capable of. Light just hoped that he would realize his innocence soon so they could start focusing their combined efforts on finding the real Kira.

His gaze shifted over to L. Stupid L. Why did he have to choose now to try and sleep? The insomniac stayed awake for days on end, falling asleep at random intervals. This had never been a problem because it usually occurred during the day, when Light was awake. However, falling asleep at night? When the rest of the world slept? This was unprecedented. How selfish of him!

A single glance at the clock showed that it was one in the morning. What was he supposed to do for the next few hours, unable to move or speak?

Light often feared situations like this. Long gaps of time where he had nothing to do but let his mind wander for a while. He wouldn't worry about it if he could think of something good, but under these types of circumstances, his mind often travelled to some places that he didn't want to visit. Dark spaces that stretched into endless tunnels of thought, voids that he couldn't pull himself out of. Thoughts that he would never share with anybody. Segments of ideas that would confirm his guilt in L's eyes, and would certainly get him removed from the task force, if not arrested.

Light would never admit this out loud, but in a sick and twisted way, Kira's existence was the best thing that ever happened to him.

It wasn't that he condoned Kira's actions. Light wanted to be a detective, after all. When L invited him to join the Task Force during his freshman year at To-Oh, he had been thrilled to help out. Did he originally anticipate that he would be a suspect chained to L at all times? Not exactly. But he was sure that he could prove his innocence in due time, and he would finally earn L's trust.

No, it wasn't admiration for Kira. It was more of a debt to him. Kira saved Light from something that he couldn't name. It was an invisible force that threatened to strangle him during times like these. He thought of it as a shadow, since it followed him throughout his entire life, there since the very beginning.

As his mother, Sachiko, used to say, Light was not a problem child. He was well-behaved in school and never caused problems. Of course, during elementary school, being well-behaved simply meant staying quiet. Yes, if there was one word to define him at that age, it would be quiet. He was perfectly capable of speaking, he just had nothing to say to his classmates, and he never needed to ask questions in school. He often sat alone and thought to himself. As far as he was concerned, that was perfectly fine.

Apparently, it was not.

One day, his parents sat him down for a conversation.

"Light," his mother began, "your father and I are worried about you. Are the other children bullying you?"

"Stop it, Sachiko. Nobody's bullying him." Soichiro almost seemed personally offended by the suggestion, as if his son being bullied was a direct attack on his own parenting skills. "What your mother means to ask is why you never bring home a friend from school. Don't you want to play with your classmates?"

"Not really," Light answered.

"What?" Asked his mother. "Why not?"

Light looked down at his hands in his lap. He may have been in elementary school, but he already spoke like an adult.

"I don't know what to say to them. We don't really connect. I'd much rather keep myself occupied with my own thoughts." He looked up to see his parents concerned expressions, watching as they exchanged nervous glances. His mother spoke first.

"Light, honey, that's not normal behavior. What do you mean, you can't connect with the other children?"

As he sat there, looking at the disappointed faces of his parents, he felt it. For the briefest of moments, a horrible sensation swarmed his thoughts. What does he tell them? Does he say that he doesn't know how to relate to kids his age? That he feels like he needs to change the way he speaks so that they would understand him? Does he mention his complete lack of interest he has for his classmates, his inability to care about their meaningless conversations that wouldn't matter a day from now? He never considered the option that he wasn't normal, and the very idea terrified him. How did he miss this possibility?

"Light, is everything alright?" Soichiro questioned him.

No, he can't do it. His parents just told him he wasn't exhibiting "normal behavior," which clearly meant there was something wrong with him. He needed to fix this problem on his own, before anybody else thought he had issues. He could end this conversation with an excuse, and then revisit the situation later.

"Yes, dad, I'm fine. I guess I'm just shy. I'm sorry, I'll try and make more friends."

His mother nodded.

"Shy," she repeated to herself to test if this was an acceptable answer.

"Yes, he's just shy," Soichiro answered. "Well, Light, just try and make more of an effort, alright?"

"Yes, father, of course."

So Light did what he always did when he was unsure of what to do. He observed and conformed. It was probably his biggest talent, and still remains to this day as one of his most valuable assets. He looked around at what the other kids were doing, observing what they would want in a friend, and then mimicked it perfectly. He acted cool, confident, and caring. Soon enough, that's how the other children viewed him. He quickly made friends and even became popular. Did he care about these friends? Did they truly understand him? Not really. However, he needed to play a role. He was Light Yagami, genius, aspiring tennis star, and son of the police chief. He did what was asked of him. If he needed to change his entire personality and make friends he didn't care about, then so be it. It's not like any of them knew the real Light, but if the real Light had something wrong with him, then they were better off not knowing him. As long as he kept up the facade, everything would be fine.

Sometimes, when you play a role for long enough, it becomes difficult to determine where the character ends and the person begins. At first, Light only played the role at school or in front of his classmates (he hesitated to call them friends, because they weren't really). When he came home, he could shut himself in his room and think for hours without anybody bothering him. Of course, it didn't take long for his parents to wonder why the child who seemed so popular in school stayed locked inside his own head at home.

Light soon discovered that leading a fake life was difficult, but leading a double life was far worse. It was much easier to pick one persona and stick to it rather than switch back and forth. He couldn't be Light, the smartest most popular kid in school, and Light, the quiet kid who stayed in his bedroom wondering why he spent so much effort trying to be what everybody else wanted him to be. He had to choose between the two, make a conscious decision of who he was going to be.

It wasn't a difficult choice.

Light entered junior high school at the top of his class and widely adored by the student body. It wasn't all that bad. Even if he didn't care for the other students, he could throw himself into an activity he did love, tennis. He looked forward to playing whenever he could, and when he wasn't practicing, he was studying or hanging out with his friends. He created a perfectly average teenage life that nobody would question.

He still had his nights, of course. Those gaps of time between his days when he could allow himself to think about whatever he wanted. Sometimes, he didn't like the holes that he spiraled into during these nights. Questions such as if he could ever lead a life that wasn't a complete social performance, a life where he could be himself without coming across as perfect. Wondering what the point was of pretending when he and everybody else would be dead someday and it wouldn't really matter. Inquiries that he couldn't answer, and he had nobody that he could ask.

Besides, there weren't many people around to question. As he reached the middle of junior high school, his father started to work longer hours. Light understood why. There were a lot of criminals out there, and somebody needed to round them up. He should be honored that his father was making the world a safer place. Unfortunately, this didn't leave him much time to see Soichiro in person, and whenever he did, his father was usually on the brink of exhaustion and went to bed immediately after dinner. Their conversations were brief, and usually consisted of Soichiro asking Light about his grades, which were always perfect, and Light asking his father about his work, which was usually classified information that Soichiro couldn't share. It was fine, really. Light had always worshipped his father. He even wanted to follow in his career footsteps. If missing out on family dinners and after school conversations was the price he had to pay in order to have Soichiro as a father, then it was worth it. Besides, it was one less person that he had to maintain an image in front of, and one less person with which he had to discuss school.

Speaking of which, school was beyond boring. Not in the way that most kids would mean, that it was difficult to sit quietly and pay attention for hours. He had no problems doing that. While the other students were asking questions and taking the entire class period to do their work, he would be done within minutes and spend his remaining time staring out the window. Initially, his teachers would criticize him for not paying attention, but once he showed them his completed (and correct) assignments, they let him be. Every once in a while, one of them would try and catch him off guard by calling on him when he was zoning out, but he always gave the correct answer. In his opinion, school was entirely too easy.

Despite his dislike for school, it certainly highlighted his intelligence. His parents gushed at his report cards, and he was quickly gaining a reputation of being some sort of genius. He felt kind of guilty about all of the attention. After all, in his eyes, he didn't put in all that much effort. He just so happened to be smart. Very smart. In a way, Light envied the students who worked hard for their grades. At least they had a purpose, something to keep them occupied.

Still, when offered compliments, he didn't turn them away. What kind of message would that send? He was supposed to be the most confident and well-respected boy in his grade. No, he would have to create a humble aspect of his personality as well. Just one more thing to tack on to the growing list of traits he made sure to possess at all times.

School was non-negotiable. If he had to go, at least he was at the top of his class. It wasn't as if he didn't have anything else to keep him busy. He still had tennis. If he didn't have to try hard at school, then at least he could work on his athletic skills.

That was until he won the junior championship in his final year of junior high school.

He should have been happy that he won. After all, he was technically the best youth tennis player in all of Japan. Anybody else would be thrilled. So why did winning the tournament leave him feeling empty inside?

He wouldn't say it out loud, but he knew the answer. If he was the smartest kid in his school, and the best athlete, then what else was there to work towards? What gave his life meaning? What was the point of his existence?

When he announced that he was quitting tennis, his parents were shocked. He told them that since he was starting high school, he needed to focus on his studies, but that was a lie. He never needed to focus on his studies. The truth was that tennis no longer made him happy. There was no challenge or reason to keep playing. He had already proven himself to be the best. He was better off not playing than forcing himself to enjoy the sport. Tennis practice, like school, was just another place for him to pretend, and with high school starting in one month, he couldn't see the point in trying to continue.

"Light, honey, come here for a minute." His mother called him into the kitchen one night. His father was working late again, and Sayu left for a friends house a few minutes ago. Light walked in to see Sachiko sitting at the kitchen table, gesturing to the seat across from her.

"Hi, mom. Is everything alright?" He sat down at the other end of the table.

"Light," Sachiko cleared her throat and paused for a moment, before looking back up and continuing, "I've been worried about you. Is there something going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you haven't been yourself lately. You quit tennis and you're always in your room."

"I told you, now that I'm in high school I've decided to focus on my studying."

"I just can't stand the thought of you stuck inside that room all day. Is that really what you've been doing all this time? Studying?"

Why didn't she believe him? Had she caught on to the fact that he didn't need all of that time to study? Had she walked in on him doing what he usually did, which was lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, thinking to himself (not unlike what he was doing in this moment), simply because he didn't have the willpower to do anything else? No, he had the willpower. He just couldn't see the point in doing anything else when he knew there would be no challenge, no reward.

He looked at her staring back at him, waiting for a response. Her knowing eyes eyes bore directly into his own. For a moment, he was convinced she could read his thoughts, that she knew the truth, understood that he was a fake, and was waiting for him to say something. She would take him into her arms and tell him that everything would be alright, that he didn't need to pretend to be perfect anymore, that she loved him despite his flaws. For a second, he tried to send a message with his eyes knowing that he could never say the words out loud. He hoped Sachiko would pick up on it, and then he could finally share his misery with somebody.

"Light?"

This was it. Now or never. He would save himself years of living up to an impossible standard. He pictured his mother, an understanding look on her face, her kind eyes… filling with disgust. Her voice, cutting and criticizing. Questioning what was wrong with him, when even he didn't know why he felt this way. He couldn't do it.

"Mom, really, Everything is fine. There's no need to worry."

"Alright, honey. If you're sure."

"I'm sure. Now, I have to go back to my room. I have a history test tomorrow."

That was it then. In Light's eyes, his fate was sealed.

He felt exhausted.

He became resolute, determined that if he was going to be miserable, he would make damn well sure that nobody else noticed it. He threw himself into his schoolwork, his image, anything to distract him from the futility of it all. And for the most part, it worked. Anything that was expected of him, he would do without complaint. He went through the motions day in and day out. He had the right personality, the right sense of style, the right everything. And if his friends began to obsess over the girls in his class, and he had to fake it do to his lack of interest, then so be it.

Finally, something shook him out of his boredom.

His father knocked on his door one evening during Light's second to last year of high school.

"Come in," Light called out. Soichiro opened the door and closed it behind him.

"Hey, dad. What's going on?"

"Light, I have something to ask you, but you need to keep this between us."

"Sure, I won't say anything."

"As you know, I haven't been home much lately. I've been working on a case, and we aren't making much progress. I was wondering if you'd like to stop by the station and maybe help out."

Could this be it? The thing that would finally bring him out of his never-ending boredom? He always wanted to be a detective. Maybe this would remind him that he had something to look forward to, that his life would get better.

"Wow, dad, really? What's the case?"

"It's insurance fraud. We have a few suspects in mind, but we can't prove anything. I was thinking you could watch the interrogations and look at the evidence, maybe see if you can figure out who's behind this. I'd prefer, of course, that you didn't tell your mother. I don't want her worrying for no reason."

"Sounds interesting. I'd love to help out! Oh, and don't worry. I won't tell mom."

"Great, I knew you'd be interested. Come with me this weekend. I don't want this interfering with your schoolwork."

Of course. School always came first. Well, no matter.

"Alright, I'm looking forward to it."

"Now, don't let me distract you from your studies. And remember, keep this between us."

With that, Soichiro left his son alone. Light turned back to his desk to stare at the mountain of homework. He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to find the motivation to do it all. He spent the past hour or so staring into space, thinking about his future, when he would finally be done with high school. Still, at least this case would be a distraction.

That Saturday morning, his father took him to the police station. The other detectives sent him a few questioning looks. After all, it wasn't every day that a 16 year old kid walked into the station. It was even more rare for said kid to be given access to evidence and clearance to watch interrogations. It wasn't long until the other staff took notice of him and gathered to watch from a distance. Light didn't mind. He was used to people commenting on his intellect. He tried to ignore the group of curious adults and block out his father's voice, focusing on what was in front of him. He could see the case unfolding before him. He analyzed each suspect, their words, their body language, everything. He sifted through evidence, samples and sheets of paper as one of the officers caught him up to speed on what they knew so far. It was the most fun Light had in years. Finally, something that challenged him. A puzzle he couldn't immediately solve. Something to destroy his boredom.

On the ride home that day, Soichiro told him,

"Light, don't worry if you can't figure this out. We've had our best detectives on this case for months, and they've only made minimal progress. We're probably looking at a year or so until we can solve this."

He gave his father a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry dad, I don't expect to solve it. I'm just thankful for the experience."

Light solved the case within two months.

He was devastated.

He should be happy. Everybody else was happy. They were congratulating him. His father was proud of him. It was a big deal.

So why did he feel so empty?

He wanted so desperately to feel happy, to be proud of himself. To relive the fleeting moments of excitement he felt upon solving the case.

Deep down, he knew the truth. If this was the hardest case the NPA had received in a few years, there was nowhere else to go but down. Sure, high school was boring, and college may be the same, but at least joining the NPA would give him a challenge, a reward for his suffering. It was the end that justified his current, dull means. His guaranteed escape into a simulating life. Finally, something that would require effort, something that would provide a sense of accomplishment. Impossible cases that required years of work. A place where he could apply himself. It would have been the perfect plan.

Unfortunately, he just achieved his life goal at the age of 16, and it wasn't nearly as satisfying as he would have hoped.

So… now what?

Summer had always been Light's least favorite season. Without school to provide some sort of distraction, summer provided him with an endless stretch of empty days.

This particular summer, the one leading into his senior year of high school, was pure torture.

It really shouldn't have been that bad. After all, at least he had entrance exams to study for, a nice task to keep him occupied.

He just couldn't see the point in studying for college if he no longer saw a reason in attending. With previous summers, he could daydream about life after high school, the adventures and mysteries he would encounter as a detective. It was a fantasy that kept him motivated. Except it was just that. A fantasy. Now that he had proven his fantasy wrong, college lost a lot of its appeal.

This is not to say that he was giving up. He was getting in to To-Oh no matter what, and he would be at the top of his class. There was simply no other option. He might be having an internal crisis, but there was no reason for anybody else to know that fact. He still had an image to maintain. Besides, this was the absolute worst time to have some sort of breakdown. Exams were in January, and he would start college in April. No, he had to get a grip and focus on his studies. It was his only choice. It was what was expected from him.

So that's what he did.

He poured himself into his studies, determined to land at the top of his class at To-Oh. At least he had a goal to work towards. He could focus on something, and his hours were occupied by cram school. It was something to fill the time.

In November, criminals started to mysteriously die from heart attacks. The occurrence immediately grabbed Light's attention. That didn't prove anything. A lot of people in Japan, no, in the world, were captivated by Kira. Yes, Light was interested in the case, but that didn't mean he himself was Kira. He was too busy studying to orchestrate a mass homicide.

Evidently, L didn't think so. Once Light realized that the FBI was watching him, he couldn't believe that he was seriously considered a suspect. Not to mention that bus-jacking, which only cast further suspicion… and Naomi's suicide… and Misa wanting to be his girlfriend? Wait, why were they dating? How does any of that relate to the Kira case? Why did L suspect him? Damnit, concentrate…

He shifted in the bed and groaned to himself. Nothing was adding up. It didn't matter how many times he reviewed his life, everything grew blurry after a certain point. The individual pieces made perfect sense, but they didn't fit together. He had a more clear vision of his childhood than what happened last year.

What he knew for a fact, however, was that he wasn't Kira. It was impossible. How could he be a mass murderer and have no memory of it? He didn't have it in him to kill anybody, even if some people may deserve to die. It wasn't his place to play God.

Still, Light didn't hate Kira, either. That didn't mean he admired him, or even worse, was the killer himself, but without Kira, where would he be?

He'd still be at To-Oh, probably the best in his class. Everybody would respect and admire him. His parents would be proud of him.

The thought of life without Kira threatened to bring back that boredom that disappeared when he showed up. He would be miserable at To-Oh, and then he would become a bored detective, waiting for a case that would challenge him, a case that would never come. Kira brought that challenge, that splash of color to an otherwise gray life.

He looked over at L, sleeping beside him. If Kira and L were enemies, then that meant Kira would want to kill L. Light could never do that. L could be annoying at times, but in a way, they worked well together. L was the one person who truly understood him, who knew what he was going to say before he thought of the words. Despite their arguments, Light could never murder the detective. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

No, he wasn't Kira. He would remember. He had to stop thinking about it, or he would drive himself crazy.

"Light." It was L, who had been assumed to be asleep this entire time.

"Ryuzaki? I thought you were asleep."

"You've been staring at the ceiling for hours. It's making me uncomfortable."

"L- I mean, Ryuzaki, what did I say about watching me sleep?"

"But you weren't sleeping, so I don't see the problem."

"That's not the point!"

"Also, your Kira percentage just went up by 1.3%. I suggest you stop arguing with me and go to sleep."

"What? That's ridiculous. The percentage just went up because you know I was right."

"2.1%."

"Fine! I'll go to sleep. Just stop staring at me, it's creepy."

"You didn't mind when you didn't notice."

"Just stop it, Ryuzaki."

"Whatever you wish."

Light turned to face away from L and shut his eyes. He tried to ignore how unsettling it was that L not only never needed to sleep, but appeared to watch Light while he was doing it. Whatever, let him be a weirdo. It's not like he would prove Light's guilt by observing his sleep patterns.

This was ridiculous, staying awake for hours trying to remember something that never even happened. He needed to be thinking about other things, such as how to catch Kira and clear his own name. He had no idea how to do that, since the Task Force had no leads since L released Light from his confinement, but there must be something, some piece of evidence that he could find. If Light were to be honest, the entire experience was beyond stressful. It was something he had never encountered before, a puzzle he couldn't solve, a challenge.

The end to his boredom that he had been waiting for his entire life.

With one last glance to ensure that L wasn't staring at him, Light fell asleep, all thoughts of his guilt and his past moved to the recesses of his mind.


End file.
